


Regrets (and the lack thereof)

by klutzysurgeon



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, bc im a baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 14:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10969332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klutzysurgeon/pseuds/klutzysurgeon
Summary: Law is going to die before he's twenty-six. He's always known this, ever since he was ten and the splotches started appearing and spreading and the doctors came with grim faces and grim news. He's always accepted this, even when Corazón made him want to live, made him start to long for the years he wouldn't have.One day, the splotches disappear. Law forgets. Corazón watches on.-----Imagine Person A being cursed from birth to die an early death. Person B, who is madly in love with Person A, chooses to change Person A’s fate in exchange for Person A’s memories of Person B. Person B becomes invisible as well. Years later, Person A has fallen for Person C while Person B lingers on, watching over them. (OTPPrompts.)





	Regrets (and the lack thereof)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm testing out writing a Doflamingo who isn't an absolute pile of pink human garbage! Also angst. I hope you enjoy it!

"Fufufu... Are you sure about this? There's no going back. What's the point of sacrificing something for love when that love will no longer exist afterwards?"

"Of course I'm sure," Rocinante smiles, soft and certain. "I'll still love him, after all. It won't disappear."

"...You really are an idiot." The demon tilts his head, expression unreadable. "Still doing things like this… Well. Consider it done."

Rocinante thinks he says thank you, or at least, he tried to before the world went dark. The demon is left to stare at the unconscious form before him with something akin to incredulity— humans and their "love"...

"Ridiculous."

(even so, his touch is gentle when he lifts the man and cradles him close.)

 

* * *

 

It happens all at once, and Rocinante isn’t sure if that’s better or worse.

He wakes up in his own bed, half-wondering if it had only been a dream, but when he steps outside—

Law is there, collecting his mail, skin free of the disease that had threatened his lifespan, free of the curse that had weighed heavy on his neck like an executioner’s axe and it was worth it. Rocinante knows immediately and without a doubt. It was worth it just to see how easy Law can breathe the air now, just to see the circles under his eyes caused by only bad sleeping habits and not from nights spent lying awake as coughs wracked his body, as the disease ate him away.

It was worth it, and he doesn’t doubt that, not even when Law makes eye contact and merely gives a friendly nod of his head, regarding his neighbour. After all, Rocinante isn’t anything more than that now, is he?

Just a neighbour.

Oh, it was worth it. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like hell.

He nods back with a smile that’s only half-forced and he carries on with his life.

 

* * *

 

It isn’t that bad.

Rocinante repeats that to himself every day, and he nearly believes it. It isn’t as if he’s literally ceased to exist. He’s even had casual conversations with Law, whenever he’s run into the boy in the hallways of their apartment complex. But it almost feels like it would be better if he were just a ghost. To talk to Law and realize that Law isn’t talking to _him_ , not to the Corazón he’d known and—

Well.

No need for assumptions about how Law might have felt, once upon a time. No, Law now is just interacting with Rocinante of apartment 46B.

The rest of his life is all the same. His job, his family… Unchanged, in every aspect except for Law. He knows this to be a fact when Sengoku doesn’t ask how Law is doing, doesn’t tease him for having a crush on a doctor. It’s as if Rocinante never knew the boy at all, every part that Law had ever touched just erased and leaving tiny holes all over the place, little gaps where he should be and he isn't and that might hurt the worst of it all.

But still, it was worth it. No matter how much it hurts. Pain is only pain, after all, and he can deal with it, can very nearly smile when he sees Law taking Bepo for a walk and smiling at the dog when he thinks no one is looking. 

Law's death is the one thing he wouldn't be able to live with. Anything else, he tells himself, is _fine._

He nearly believes it.

 

* * *

 

“You still haven’t stopped watching that one?”

“It’s interesting.”

“Or you _care?_ ”

“Don’t mock me unless you’re ready for the consequences.”

“My apologies, young master. Still, things are about to get interesting…”

“Oh, I know. Fufufu... this is a very interesting game indeed, little brother.”

 

* * *

 

Luffy.

 

The boy’s name is Monkey D. Luffy, and Rocinante does not hate him.

He’s jealous of him, but that isn’t the right word, is it? Jealousy is to fear having what’s yours taken from you, but Law isn’t his. Wasn’t ever. Envy then, perhaps. Anger. Sadness.

He feels a lot of things, towards Luffy and towards everything in general, but not hatred.

Not regret.

Law smiles for Luffy. It’s that tiny, begrudging smile that Rocinante has embedded in his memories and he can’t hate anyone who can make Law smile like that, he can’t.

He watches Law kiss the boy in the hallway one day, dropping his groceries all over the floor when he screeches to a surprised halt at the scene and he’s never felt quite so empty before.

But empty is still full of nothing; not even regret.

 

From the shadows, the demon frowns.

 

* * *

 

He tries not to interact with Law much.

It’s not like he’s _avoiding_ the boy, but he’s worried about interfering, about saying something he shouldn’t. Law’s past, his family and friends, his studies and dreams— Rocinante has no right to know any of that. Only Corazón did, and he is dead, died with Law’s disease and that’s fine, he just can’t take chances.

And so, if Rocinante is changing his schedule just a little so he doesn’t run into Law at the mailbox anymore, so he doesn’t risk seeing him in the hallways, well. It’s not like he’s hiding, or anything. It’s not cowardice.

Not _really_.

It works, for a few weeks. It works until it suddenly doesn’t, because he finds Law just sitting beside the wall where their mailboxes are, sitting and waiting and offering that tiny little smile with such sadness in his eyes that Rocinante nearly breaks down sobbing right then.

“There you are,” Law says. “I was worried you’d been sick, I hadn’t seen you leave the apartment.”

“Ah, no, I’m fine.” Rocinante barely manages, tone slightly off but beyond his control. “My schedule just changed suddenly, that’s all. Thank you for worrying about me.”

“No problem,” the boy shrugs. “I’m a doctor, after all. It’s only natural for me to be concerned. Sorry for my nosiness.”

 _It’s fine,_ Rocinante wants to say, but it really _isn’t._

Why does Law look so _sad?_

 

* * *

 

It nearly stops his heart from fright when he sees the demon step through the front door of his apartment as casually as if he owned the place, yet it’s almost unsurprising in a way. Almost like he’s used to the presence despite their meeting only once. Maybe he's just too tired to care enough. “Hello again.”

“H-hello,” Rocinante manages, coughing from the drink he’d nearly choked on. “Do you need something?”

The demon grins, a mockery of innocence. “What makes you think that?”

“You only ever come by when you need something,” Rocinante laughs, a humourless sound. It belatedly occurs to him that’s just a rude assumption, isn’t it? It just slipped out without a thought.

The man doesn’t comment, expression hidden behind gaudy pink shades with such dark black lenses it’s a wonder he can see at all. “I just came by to see how you were doing, seeing as how your boy is about to fuck someone else.”

This time Rocinante does choke, gasping for breaths of air in between all the tea unfortunately scorching his throat. The demon watches with amusement, offering him a handkerchief to mop up the mess on his face and nearly chuckling at his expression. “He– you– they’re _what_!?”

“Mm, yes. Your Law and… Loofah, is it?”

“Luffy.” Rocinante mumbles the correction, collapsing back onto his couch with suddenly heavy limbs. “They’re… about to have sex.”

Repeating the knowledge aloud doesn’t make it any easier to bear.

“That’s…”

Terrible. Awful. Painful. It hurts, like his chest is being stomped on by Law’s favourite pair of leather boots. Maybe it is. Luffy grinning, grinning, wide mouth mocking because _hahahah, he’s mine now!_

It’s painful. The two of them together, intimately, and Law—

Law in that bed with him, Law—

Looking at _that boy_ and—

…

Would Law smile?

The way he did for Luffy, before in the hallway?

The way he used to for...

“...That’s good.”

That mirthful grin drops. “Good?”

“That’s good,” Rocinante repeats, voice sounding distant even to himself. “That means their relationship is doing well, so they’re happy. That’s why I made the deal with you, you know.” He straightens up on the couch, folding his hands in his lap and smiling.

It’s so sad but not quite fake.

“So Law would live and hopefully find happiness. And he has, if their relationship is… intimate. And I hear work at the hospital is going well, too. So I got everything I wanted.”

“Liar.”

It shocks the demon himself more than anyone that the single, bitter word slips from his lips and the façade breaks, just for a moment. He smooths it over immediately, carries on in his usual charming tone like he hadn’t just spat the word like venom. “You wanted _him_.”

“I do.”

Present tense. It isn’t lost on either of them. “But not as much as this. I wouldn’t change it.” Simple, clear, bittersweet honesty. “So what did you come here for?”

The demon shrugs, burying his hands in his pockets. “Just to tell you that the deal’s off, I suppose.” He doesn’t give the other blonde a chance to fret, already making lazy strides to the door, bemused tone to his voice. “Oh, and I was just kidding about that Luffy kid. Law couldn’t go through with it. I expect you’ll find him on your doorstep any minute now…”

The door opens and Rocinante stands and whirls to watch him go, fluffy pink coat ruffling in the draft. “What do you mean the deal is off?!”

He pauses in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder with those cursed glasses hiding his eyes and grins, wide and empty. What colour were his eyes? "I mean that you won this time. It's part of the contract. See you, Roci."

He steps out the doorway, pulling the knob shut behind him and Rocinante has a million questions, a million things to say. Some part of his frazzled mind is even wondering why demons use doors. Even with his height, with his long hurried strides, he doesn’t make it in time, reaching for the doorknob just a bit too late.

“Doffy, wait…!”

_Click._

 

* * *

 

“... _Doffy_ , hm?”

 

* * *

 

There’s nothing but the empty apartment corridor when Rocinante flings open the door. He’d expected that, but it still hurts, somehow, like bitter nostalgia in the way his brain screams _too slow, always too slow._

Who the hell is _Doffy,_ anyway?

He closes the door with a quiet click, leaning against it as his heart rate tries to return to normal. Too much to think about, too many emotions. Was the demon telling the truth the first time, or the second? Was Law… with Luffy, going to…?

Rocinante shuts that line of thought down immediately. It doesn’t matter. It’s none of his business if they were going to, if they will, or even if they _have_. He has no place to be feeling the pain he’s feeling. He takes a shaky step away from the door, and then another, and another until he’s back on the couch, drink gone cold but he sips from it anyway.

Doffy— if that is the demon’s name— was just screwing with him. It doesn’t matter.

(still, he finds himself waiting hours for a knock on his door.)

 

* * *

 

Law doesn’t show up.

 

* * *

 

It takes days for Doffy’s prediction to come true. Three days, exactly, for Rocinante’s door to be banged on so hard he fears for the hinges but he opens it because it’s Law, standing breathless outside his door like he’s just run a marathon— or perhaps just been pacing for hours. That always was a bad habit of his.

It’s bittersweet to think of how little he’s changed despite the memories taken. Law steps into the apartment without so much as a greeting, encroaching on Rocinante’s personal space immediately and grabbing his shirt collar to tug the man down face to face.

“Who the hell are you?!”

The circles under his eyes are worse. Rocinante is too stunned to think anything else, staring blankly into grey eyes that demand answers. “I-I’m Rocinante…?”

The blonde reaches his hands up to grip at the arm pulling him down and Law seems to realize what he’s doing, letting go of the man’s shirt and allowing him to straighten up. Even so, the fierce expression in his eyes doesn’t lessen, tattooed hands balling into fists at his sides. “Liar.”

It all seems to explode at once after that.

“Liar. _Liar._ I know that’s your name, but it _isn’t_. I keep waking up and checking my phone but I don’t know what I’m expecting to see or why I’m so damn disappointed when I don’t. Every time I talk to you I’m happy but I don’t even know you. You avoid me all the time. All your smiles are so goddamn sad they make my chest hurt. I tried _fucking_ another boy just because I knew he’d be nice enough to let me and I _couldn’t_. And the worst part of _that_ is that he just smiled and said he _knew_ and this doesn’t match up with the symptoms of amnesia, not with _any case of it_ but I don’t—”

Law is heaving even more ragged breaths now, having barely stopped for oxygen the whole time and Rocinante can only stare wide-eyed and stunned.

“But I don’t know.”

_Doffy._

Neither of them can quite remember, and yet…

“...Sorry.” Rocinante offers a half-hearted shrug, familiar sad smile on his face. “I don’t know what to tell you.” It’s the truth, for as little as it’s worth. “I’m sorry.”

And as quickly as the burst of anger came, it flees, leaving Law deflated in front of him. “Liar,” he mutters again. “You do know. You keep looking at me, like you…”

“...Like I what?”

“...It doesn’t matter.” The surgeon steps away, reaches for the door handle behind him to flee. “Sorry for disturbing you. I…”

The doorknob twists, but Rocinante moves faster this time, a shaky hand on Law’s shoulder to keep him in place. “Please, wait…!”

Those wide grey eyes seem so lost and sad and _why_ hadn’t he paid more attention, Law might be alive but he isn’t _happy_ like this but oh, Rocinante is selfish, he’s selfish and he knows it because he would still do this again. He would still choose the sadness in those eyes over the cold dead ones of a corpse and he’s so, so selfish.

Selfish enough to cling to him, even now.

“Please remember. I can’t _tell_ you, but please, please remember…” He might be on the verge of crying, or maybe he already is, throat feeling swollen like the words themselves are made of cotton. Like they’ll choke him if he says the wrong thing and maybe they will, maybe that was his end of the contract. It wouldn’t do to have people trying to reclaim memories, but this…

Well, if Law never lost them in the first place, it’s not really stealing, right?

A tattooed hand comes up to lightly grab his arm and the touch is so familiar but utterly foreign because he knows, somehow: it’s just not that easy. Law looks absolutely lost; oh, he never did quite know how to deal with people. “I… I’m sorry, Cora. Please don’t cry.”

_Cora._

“W-what did you just call me?” Rocinante demands, eyes wide. Cora. Corazón. _Corazón. This_ Law shouldn’t know that name. There’s no way, because they haven’t… They never…

Corazón.

It had been a silly little nickname, born of a combination of the Spanish class Law had been forced to take in his first year of college and the beanie Rocinante often wore, a cozy red cloth with heart tassels at the end that he hasn’t been able to look at since the deal because…

Because that hadn’t happened. Law hadn’t ever called him Corazón that day, drunk from his roommates awful idea at throwing a party. Law hadn’t ever had a hangover nursed by the clumsy blonde after passing out in the hallway, hadn’t slyly neglected to mention how he could’ve more than taken care of himself since he’d been studying medical texts since he was a child and dealing with his roommates since before they were able to legally drink, hadn’t ever gotten closer to Rocinante.

Because of his deal, _Corazón_ had never existed.

But oh, Rocinante has never wanted to be someone else more than in this moment.

“I… don’t know?” Law’s brow furrows, hand dropping and Rocinante follows suit, letting go of the boy’s shoulder. He still doesn’t remember, but it’s there. It’s really there. “Corazón…”

“You called me that because—”

Rocinante cuts off mid sentence, though not of his own volition. There it is again, the choking feeling that refuses to let him speak. So much for the deal being off— it’s irritating, but it’s always like this with Doffy.

…

Always?

“...You called me Corazón, and…”

He can’t say it. Literally, he can’t. Maybe he could go get the beanie, and put it on and hope it jogs the boy’s memory? Or could he write it out on pen and paper? What if nothing actually restores the memories? What if they’re just fragments?

...And what if this wasn’t his first deal with that demon?

There’s too much to think about, too many problems all at once while Law is still just staring at him, confused and expecting answers and maybe it’s simpler than it seems.

Maybe it doesn’t matter all that much.

Rocinante steps forward and pulls Law into a hug, smushing the boy against his chest and holding him securely. “And it’s okay if you can’t remember. I still… I’ve always loved you. You called me Corazón, but you’re… You’ve always been mí corazón. I’m so happy you’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

He knows, he’s just talking cheesy nonsense as far as Law would know. Law doesn’t remember being sick, and this is… this is probably akin to getting a love confession from a stranger, and one much older than him too, oh goodness. He didn’t even think about that part. But it’s… the truth. It’s the only truth he can speak, the only thing that's remained true the entire time. He doesn’t regret this.

Law stiffens in his hold, arms awkwardly wrapping around him and fists bunching up the fabric of his shirt.

“Corazón.”

The blonde is busy trying to blink away tears, his own hands wrinkling the fabric of the surgeon’s nice shirt. He doesn’t notice the way Law is squeezing him so tightly it’s as if he’s suddenly afraid he’ll disappear.

_“Corazón.”_

Rocinante lets go, swiping at his eyes and resolving to let this whole thing go. There are no answers he can give— literally, he can’t— but that’s okay. It really is, this time. He can let this go.

Law doesn’t let go of _him_ , though.

“...Law?”

“ _Corazón!_ ” Law says again, voice breaking off into a sob. “Corazón, Corazón, C-Corazón…” He pulls his face away from where it had been buried in the man’s sweater and those grey eyes are _alive._ “Cora, you goddamn idiot…! What the hell?! What did you _do?!_ ”

That sounds like…

“Law?”

“That’s my name,” Law mutters. “And Corazón is yours, and _I’m not sick._ What the hell did you do, Cora?! _Why did I forget you?!”_

There’s no stopping the tears that well up this time, Rocinante staring disbelievingly at… Law. Law. This is _his_ Law.

_I mean that you won this time._

The deal is off, but he’s… still not sick? Skin still unmarred by the telltale white splotches, it’s almost too good to be true.

Not sick.

Alive and remembering and…

and…

...demanding an explanation…

Rocinante sniffles, nearly suffocating Law in another hug. Oh, he's going to be so mad and he just wants to hold him right now. Explanations can wait.

“Law…! I’m so happy, Law!!!”

 

* * *

 

Hours and tissues and many explanations later, they're sitting together on the couch feeling drained and exhilarated all at once, both still struggling to take in the reality of their situation.

“So you… Let me get this straight.” Law rubs tiredly at his face, staring with an expression somewhere between begrudging admiration and stern disapproval. “You made a deal with an _actual demon_ to stop me from dying at the cost of my memories. Even though I’d accepted my death when I was _ten_ and I’d sooner _die_ than forget you.”

Rocinante winces, nodding slowly. “That’s… basically it, yeah…”

“You didn’t even give me a _choice_.”

“You would have done the same.” He would do it again, too. A million times over, if it saved him.

Law opens his mouth to protest before snapping it shut again, frowning and leaning against Rocinante on the couch. “Yeah, I would have,” he mumbles into the blonde’s shoulder. “I’m still angry.”

“That’s fair,” Rocinante chuckles softly, stroking his fingers through Law’s short, soft hair. “I missed you so much…”

Law pulls away to stare at him, gold eyes almost scared as he clings to Rocinante’s shirt sleeve like he might disappear at any second. “God, I missed you every day and I couldn’t even remember. I didn’t… I spent _months_ trying to figure out what was missing. I took up _baking_ at one point, Cora. _Baking._ ”

“...Is that why I saw you covered in flour?” Rocinante struggles not to laugh, holding a hand over his mouth to cover his smile. “I thought maybe Bepo had knocked something over…”

“No, but even Bepo missed you,” Law points out, squinting suspiciously. “He mopes every time someone walks in the door and it’s not you. You’d been sneaking him food, hadn’t you?

“...I have no idea what you mean,” Rocinante coughs. The Samoyed is just so cute, and he likes food _so much..._ “W-we’re just very good friends…”

“Right,” Law scoffs. He lets go of Rocinante’s shirt sleeve, looking flustered when he realizes he’d been clinging to it. “I… Shit, this is just so…”

Rocinante nods, though he doesn’t know what to say. The fact that demons exist at all is something he hadn’t really dwelled on, a fact that hadn’t felt as surprising as it should have and he has a sinking feeling he knows why, blurry memories starting to resurface though he isn’t dwelling on that, either.

He can’t apologize, because he isn’t _really_ sorry, but he wants to, seeing the conflict on Law’s face as the boy tries to process this situation. What a mess it must feel like, to have everything flooding back at once… “I love you, Cora.”

What?

“ _What_?” Rocinante stammers, shocked to see Law staring at him without a trace of doubt or hesitation.

“I love you,” Law repeats. “You said it first earlier, didn’t you? Don’t act so surprised now.”

“Th-that’s true, but I… That was, I thought you were… I just sort of blurted it out…!” He’s stammering and he knows it, face flushing with embarrassment. Where did all this come from?

“Was it not true?”

“It’s true!” The sound of his grave being dug is audible, but it’s not like he can deny it now. He doesn’t like that flicker of doubt on Law’s face, can’t stand the idea of Law thinking he isn’t loved even if it damns him. “I… I do love you, Law. I always have,” Rocinante mumbles. “That doesn’t mean you have to force yourself to—”

 _To love me back_ , he intended to say. After all, he’s fine with just this. Friend, neighbour, companion. Law is already precious to him, and it’s incredible that he’s important to the boy, important enough that…

Important enough, maybe, that it shouldn’t be a surprise that Law grabs the front of his shirt and leans over on the couch to kiss him, cutting off his sentence with soft warm lips on his own and sending his thoughts to a screeching halt.

It’s short and sweet, just a press of lips but it leaves his mouth tingling when Law leans back, letting his hand drop to seek out Rocinante’s. “I love you, Cora,” Law says again. “I have for _years_ , I just… didn’t think…” He trails off, hand squeezing tighter. “Stupid. I was stupid. I love you. I love you. Please don’t leave me again.”

There’s just the tiniest stutter to his voice in the last sentence but Rocinante notices it, feels his heart twist as he smothers Law into a hug. “I’m not going anywhere, Law, I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, rubbing the boy’s back soothingly. “I love you too, I love you so much…”

He blinks away the blurriness in his vision and doesn’t mind the tears that fall or the wetness he can feel staining the front of his shirt, content just to stay like this, resting his head on top of Law’s and smiling in spite of it all because they’re okay, they’re really okay.

The demon peers at them through the window and Rocinante smiles kindly at him as well, mouthing quiet words that have him frozen to the spot, expression neutral but oh, Rocinante learned how to read him _ages_ ago.

“Your eyes are blue, aren’t they, brother?”

 

* * *

 

It takes several more hours for them to really calm down, well into the night before Rocinante finally ushers them up for food and they get crappy delivery because they’re too tired to cook and too wired to drive, discarded boxes littering the coffee table as they sit curled together on the couch.

They’ve talked and talked and talked and still, they could do this all night. “...Oh dear, I wonder if Sengoku is going to remember,” Rocinante muses aloud. “Or did it just undo you…?”

“Oh _fuck_ no, I am not reintroducing myself to that man,” Law grimaces. “It was bad enough the first time.”

“It wasn’t _that_ bad,” Rocinante protests. Sengoku isn’t a monster, after all, just a little protective. And they hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot, but they’d been getting along… peacefully, after that. “You two are just a lot alike.”

“If you say so,” Law mumbles, burying his face into the crook of Rocinante’s neck, not willing to point out how Sengoku had literally tried to use a taser on him at one point. To be fair, he had brandished a scalpel… But that was _after_ Sengoku insulted Bepo. There was no way he was going to let the man get away with that. Even Luffy loves Bepo. “...Ah, shit, I still have to explain things to Luffy…”

Law can feel the way Rocinante shifts at the name and he frowns, gripping his hand tighter. He doesn’t really know what to say; they never did anything more than kiss, and it seemed like Luffy always knew what he was trying to do even before he’d realized it, but it was still messed up. He’ll make it up to them both, somehow.

…

Well, maybe Luffy won’t be so hard. There _is_ a new steakhouse in town. His bank account can take the hit, probably. Rocinante, on the other hand…

Law presses his lips to the stretch of neck in front of him, repeating the motion to pepper the skin with kisses and he knows he’s got the blonde’s attention by the way he stiffens, can feel the motion as he swallows. “Ah… Wh… What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.” Although, it could be said that a hickey doesn’t really count. And to be fair… Law pulls away to tilt Rocinante’s head down to give him a proper kiss, noting the way those red eyes widen with surprise before he slides his own shut, focusing hard on the sheer sensation. This kind of kiss is much better after all.

When Law’s tongue brushes against Rocinante’s lips the blonde jerks back with a stammer, face slightly red. “W-wait, we can’t… I mean, you still have to… Luffy,” he aimlessly gestures with his free hand, flustered.

Ah.

“This isn’t cheating,” Law scoffs. “I broke up with him days ago. I just figure I owe him an explanation now since I actually know what’s going on, but honestly, I doubt he cares. Too kindhearted for his own good, that one.”

“You speak of him awfully fondly,” Rocinante points out. There’s a hint of a smile on his face and he really is happy that Law was able to get close to someone else, even if…

“I _suppose_ we’re friends,” Law begrudgingly admits. “If only because I have little say in the matter. When I didn’t answer the door for an hour, he got his friend to pick the lock because he thought I’d _died_. I don’t think he’ll ever leave me alone.” His expression is deadpan but with no trace of real anger, something very close to fondness in the way he says it. “But still, only friends.”

“I… see,” Rocinante mumbles. A lockpick…? Aren’t locks nowadays supposed to be unpickable?

“Only friends,” Law stresses, fingers softly brushing Rocinante’s cheek. “So this is fine, isn’t it?”

Rocinante squeezes the hand in his, tongue poking out to wet his lips before he bites them nervously. “...If you’re sure you want this.” If you’re sure you want _me_.

“Positive,” Law murmurs. This time when they kiss, Rocinante doesn’t react with surprise, letting his eyes slide shut as Law’s free hand slides into his hair, nestling in the soft gold threads as he tilts his head for a better angle, a contented noise humming in his throat.

This time it’s Rocinante who hesitantly runs his tongue along Law’s lips, nearly taken aback by how quickly Law responds, mouths slanting together easily and Rocinante moves his hand to cup the side of Law’s face nearly subconsciously, holding him close.

This time, it’s Rocinante who doesn’t want to stop, hand sliding down to rest over Law’s chest, feeling the fast tha-thump of his heart as their kiss deepens and Law’s fingers tighten in his hair, tiny pants of breath escaping their joined lips. It feels like it goes on forever before they have to break away, faces flushed and breathing heavy. “Law,” Rocinante murmurs, lips swollen and glistening.

“Cora,” Law breathes, faint smile on his face. “I love you.”

Rocinante buries his face in the crook of Law’s neck, feeling safe and content when comforting arms wrap around him. “I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

Sunlight blaring down on his face is the first sign that tells Law they fell asleep on the couch, Corazón still nestled on top of him and… honestly, the man’s weight is almost a little crushing and he can’t feel the arm that somehow got caught between them but he doesn’t want to move, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the harsh light.

“Morning,” Rocinante mumbles, nuzzling sleepily against his chest. It takes him a few moments to wake up and fully realize their situation and he manages to fall off the couch when he does, landing with a dull thud and a quiet, resigned groan. “I should have seen that coming…”

“Morning, Cora…” Law yawns, rolling over halfway to stare at him from the couch. He leans off halfway to lightly peck him on the cheek and the blush that spreads on Rocinante’s face is almost half as adorable as his wide, flustered grin.

“You remember,” Rocinante sighs in relief. “I was kind of scared I’d dreamt up last night…”

“Why would I be on your couch if it hadn’t happened?” Law scoffs. “Besides, shouldn’t I be the one worried about forgetting?” He throws a hand over his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut with a groan. “How do you people deal with sunlight…”

“We produce Vitamin D?”

“Smartass,” Law mumbles, though there’s a smile on his face when he manages to get up, offering a hand to Rocinante. There’s a moment where they pause, simply staring at each other and Law is the first to move, burying his face in Rocinante’s shirt and holding him tightly. “I love you.”

“That makes seven times,” Rocinante laughs. “I’m still not sure this isn’t a dream…”

“You’ve been _counting?”_

“Yup. I don’t want to forget a single moment of this.”

“It wouldn’t matter if you did.” Law pulls back a bit to stare at him, eyes meeting as he slips his hand into Rocinante’s. “I’m not going anywhere, so I’ll say it as many times as you like.”

Rocinante smiles, the soft and warm expression that Law has been aching for this whole time, and brings their joined hands up to bend slightly and place a kiss against Law’s. “I love you too, Law.”

It takes forever for them to finally let go, but they have to, eventually. Rocinante forces Law through breakfast amid protests of him not being hungry because he knows the boy will always forget to eat (and oh, he’s been so worried about that all these months, is it just his imagination or is Law thinner?) and Law has to go check on Bepo, though it takes an hour to convince him to leave, reassuring him that it will be okay.

He thinks they both might be a little afraid for awhile, but he gets the feeling it really will be alright. After all, demons are bound by their contracts and this one...

This one strolls casually through his front door just minutes after Law has left, as if the door wasn’t locked at all. “Doffy.”

Rocinante smiles at him and the demon finally frowns, usual expression dropping off his face like a mask slipping off. “Roci. You know, I’ll be out of business if you keep this up."

 

_“I can’t give you something for nothing,” Doflamingo frowned. “It doesn’t work like that.”_

_“...What if we made a deal?”_

 

“It’s not like I knew there was a loophole,” Rocinante chuckles. “At least, not after the deal. I told you my feelings wouldn’t change, didn’t I? But you never did believe in us silly humans.”

 

_“A deal? Fufufu, brother, you should know better than anyone how that goes. Regret is ugly. Besides, it’s cheating since you know how this little game works.”_

_“Then, take my memories first. Come and offer me the deal after. I’ll still do it, I’m sure.”_

_“...Everyone always says that.”_

 

“I still don’t,” Doflamingo scowls. “You’re an abnormality. Humanity, as a whole, is selfish and easily manipulated.” A sly grin works its way onto his face, eyes hidden behind those damnable glasses even though it’s useless now. “I bet your little Law would have caved.”

 

_“This should be interesting, at least,” he’d smirked. “You’d go this far for him, hmm?”_

_“I love him, Doffy.” A pause, and Rocinante smiles, wrapping his brother up in a hug before the demon can protest, already starting to feel the magic at work. “I love you too, you know. Thank you.”_

 

“...I’d like to think he wouldn’t even take the deal, but I know that’s not true.” He sighs, though it’s nearly affectionate, a smile tugging at his lips still. “Even though I wouldn’t want him to, even though it would kill him… I know he’d do the same thing I did. Love is silly, Doffy.”

He steps forward and Doflamingo doesn’t step back, allowing him to get closer and closer until he’s close enough to reach out and brush a hand along the demon’s face, a soft grip on the glasses as he pulls them off.

Baby blue eyes stare back, a polar opposite of his own intimidating red irises and he chuckles, folding the glasses up to slip them into his brother’s front pocket. “Still so worried about ruining your fierce reputation, aren’t you? It’s nice to see your eyes again.”

Too expressive; they give away his every emotion, but the glasses never hid him from Rocinante. “You really _are_ trying to run me out of business,” Doflamingo sighs. “Well, no matter. Since there’s nothing to be gained here, I have other deals to be making—”

Rocinante is already holding him, this time, firm grip on his arm keeping him from leaving. One step ahead; faster, just this once. “Stop disappearing like that,” he frowns. Always, always, he’s always been just a little too slow to hold on to what he loves.

This time, he’s clingy.

“You always… Honestly, we’re brothers, Doffy. You don’t have to only come by every couple years like a ghost. Come and visit once in awhile?”

The request is simple, his voice nearly pleading and he sees the answer in those soft blue eyes even as Doflamingo scowls and yanks his arm away, putting his glasses back on as he makes for the door. “I’m under no obligation to come play house with you and your lover, Roci.”

“I’ll set the table for three!” Rocinante cheerfully calls after him, grinning when the door slams a little too hard. “So that’s that… ah, Law is going to be mad at me again.”

It's kind of a funny story; a shared mother with only Doflamingo’s father being of demonic descent— they’d never really gotten along from the start, but family is family and they’re all they have left of it. Rocinante collapses onto the couch with a quiet sigh, tilting his head back and smiling. “Letting me win this time, Doffy… You got soft.”

 

* * *

 

"Sanji, is the meat done yet?! I'm hungry!!!"

" _You_ try cooking for an entire party! Either wait for it to finish or die of food poisoning for all I care!"

"But I'm hungryyyyyyyyy...."

Luffy's whining puts Law ever closer to snapping, his tiny apartment bustling with people and honestly, he's still not sure how exactly this had happened. He'd promised the boy food and he'd seemed to think that meant  _right this instant_ and when he'd snapped that he didn't even have anything made, Luffy had just said that's alright, he has a friend who cooks and followed him back to his apartment, immediately whipping out his phone and texting said friend.

The chef friend had brought a green-haired man with him, and shortly after the green-haired man had been kicked out of the kitchen. He left the apartment and just as Law was resigning himself to his kitchen being occupied, the green one returned with another. And then Corazón had arrived, saying something about his brother coming over and Law hasn't even  _heard_ about Corazón having a brother but he couldn't ask in front of everyone.

And then Luffy had said that since there were so many of them here anyway, the rest of "them" should come over. "Them" turned out to be, presumably, every single person in Luffy's contact list. There's no less than fourteen people crammed into his tiny apartment, his four-person dining table now fitting eight chairs (and Law doesn't even _own_ four extra chairs; he has no idea where they came from) and couch crammed with the rest.

Law himself is half-unconscious on the couch, Corazón cheerfully pressed against him. Shachi and Penguin occupy the other end and he glares warily at them, daring either to take a picture of the way his head rests on Corazón’s shoulder. Bepo is thriving at the dining table, the normally shy Samoyed suddenly the life of the party and he has a sneaking suspicion that someone is feeding him but he’s too tired to go and check.

Rocinante cards his fingers through Law’s hair with a chuckle, barely resisting the urge to place a kiss there as well. “Come now, Law, it’s not _that_ bad.”

“I’m going to call the police and have everyone forcibly escorted off the premises,” Law mumbles against his shoulder. The blonde shifts, staring down at him playfully.

 _"_ _Everyone?”_

 “...You can stay,” Law mutters, fighting to keep the blush off his face. There’s too many people around but he doesn’t want to move; he would be holding the man’s hand right now if they were alone, actually. He’s tempted to do so now anyway, but—

Shachi and Penguin lean closer, matching shit-eating grins on their faces. _"Everyone?"_  they mimic.

“Not only will I have you evicted, I will tell the police enough to get you both arrested,” Law deadpans.

“Meanie,” Shachi grumbles. Penguin laughs, pulling Shachi back towards the other end of the couch before they irritate him enough to make him follow through with the idle threat. None of them hear the door open, the noise at the dining room table too loud for them to possibly hear but the man is a little impossible to miss, demon setting a folding chair down in front of the couch and sitting down to stare at Rocinante.

His expression is hidden behind the glasses as always, but Rocinante gets the distinct feeling he’s being glared at. “Hi, Doffy! You made it.”

Law stares at the stranger, immediately making the connection that _ah, this must be the brother Corazón had talked about._ “If you invite any more people over this will be more like playing harem than playing house, Roci.”

Law is already not sure if he likes or hates this man.

“But the food smells nice, doesn’t it?” Rocinante grins. His hand curls around Law’s head almost protectively and neither Law nor Doflamingo miss the action, though the latter only grins.

“Sickeningly sweet.” The gaudy pink feather jacket ruffles when he moves, reclining back in the chair. “But I suppose I’ll wait and see how it turns out.”

Rocinante laughs, leaving Law with the distinct feeling he’s missing out on something but it’s hard to care all that much, the motion in his hair soothing and he’s honestly just still reeling with the relief of having this back, of having Corazón back.

“...I’m going to go get a book,” Law decides. He stands, tugging the blonde off the couch with him. “Cora, come help me pick one out.”

“A book? But Law, there’s so many people, you could just talk to them…”

“The amount of people is exactly why I’m getting a book,” Law blandly responds, insistently tugging. The trio left behind watches them go, Penguin and Shachi left to stare awkwardly at Doflamingo.

Penguin pipes up first, a sly grin on his face worthy of rivalling the demon’s own. “...So, got any embarrassing stories of Rocinante as a kid?”

 

* * *

 

Corazón has barely closed the bedroom door behind him before Law pushes him up against it, tugging on his shirt collar to pull him down for a kiss. It takes him a few moments to react after the initial shock, wrapping his arms around Law when he does.

It’s surprisingly fierce, teeth softly biting at his lips and pulling a surprised gasp from him. It feels like several minutes before Law lets him go, his breathing a little ragged and face flushed. “Wh… What was all that about?” Corazón mumbles, dazed. “N-not that I’m complaining…”

“There’s too many damn people here,” Law scowls. “I just want you all to myself.”

The blunt statement has Corazón staring for a few moments before he comes to a decision, leaning down to capture those lips himself for a slow, deep kiss. One hand stays around the boy’s waist while the other threads in messy black hair, cradling him close like a precious treasure.

He parts reluctantly, feathering kisses along Law’s jawline before straightening up again, absently fixing his crumpled shirt. More than anything, this is real. The bustle of the party is still audible and he can't remember ever being so happy just to be _alive,_ to know that Law will live and to have this, to have him. There's no way he could have ever regretted any of this.

“Come on,” Corazón grins. “For right now, we have to go back out there. We’ll have dinner with my brother and all your friends and you can pretend you don’t see me slipping Bepo table scraps—” Law glares a little at that, but Corazón squeezes his hand, chuckling. “And it won’t be nearly as bad as you think. Then…”

Corazón leans down, enough to brush a kiss against Law’s cheek and murmur closely to his ear, “Then we’ll have your apartment all to ourselves.”

Straightening back up, the blonde flashes another silly grin. “And we have every day after that, too. After all, I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

It takes Law a few moments to process the words, face red from the sultry whispering. He squeezes Corazón’s hand back, giving a nod and one of his rare, genuine smiles. “...Every day after that,” Law murmurs. “Sounds like a deal.”

“Then it’s a deal.” Corazón reaches for the doorknob, pausing and twisting around before he opens the door. “I love you,” he smiles, placing a kiss on top of Law’s head. He lets his grip slacken, expecting the boy to want to let go before anyone could see but surprisingly he refuses, holding his hand the entire way down the hallway.

Law is still holding his hand when they make it back into the living room, still holding his hand when they settle back on the couch, still holding his hand when Shachi and Penguin trade glances about it as he settles against Rocinante’s shoulder again, close enough that only the blonde can hear him speak over the noise. It sounds like the food is ready and he knows they'll have to go and eat but they have time, now.

Oh, it was worth it.

 

“I love you too.”


End file.
